


The One where Billy protects Steve.

by StrangerHarringroves



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Redemption, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Blood and Violence, Drunk Steve, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Gay Billy Hargrove, M/M, Mild Language, Protective Billy Hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 01:57:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerHarringroves/pseuds/StrangerHarringroves
Summary: ... Momentarily stunned, Billy watched Steve push himself up onto his hands and knees, watched as a foot crunched into the side of his head and the resulting spatter of blood drip to the floor.Something inside him snapped...





	The One where Billy protects Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr prompt inspired this, I hope you enjoy!

Billy had lost count of how many drinks he'd necked back but was happy with the pleasant buzz that enveloped him. It wasn't enough to be classed as 'drunk' but there was enough alcohol in his system to douse the sting from his earlier encounter with Neil. He could drink more, easily. Like many times before, he could get wasted and stumble home fired up and ready to fight.

He got distracted this time though. The last minute house party had been organised by some guy whose name Billy doesn't care remember and in true Hawkins style, every room was packed with rowdy teens, beer and the deep thrum of bass music. Among the crush of bodies, stood King Steve and by Billy's estimation, the boy was well on his way to being hammered. He danced clumsily, two equally inebriated girls clinging onto each of his arms. One of them snaked a hand underneath his shirt and Billy necked another plastic cup, crushing it in his fist.

Why the hell was he getting so prickly all of sudden?

Steve either wasn't aware or was enjoying her attention. Fucking Steve Harrington. For some reason the brown haired boy evoked a torrent of mixed feelings in Billy, from the very first moment they met. Initially it had been pure scorn and mocking. Pretty rich playboy with an attitude. Sometimes Billy wanted to rearrange his face, other times he wanted to spew a colourful fountain of insults and other times, more recently, he just simply observed him with... interest. 

The past years events had changed Steve. His appearances at parties like this one had become a rarity and he spent an awful lot of time with the kids which Billy never quite understood but he supposed it got Neil off his back regarding Max a little. If Billy sat down and thought about it, he'd say Steve's withdrawn into himself.

Christ, he's not a psychologist and why did he care what Steve Harrington did?

Turning away from the scene, Billy brushed his fingers through his hair and scanned the room in search of Tommy or someone else whose company he tolerated but a commotion behind him snapped his attention back to the sea of students. Shouts and shrieks rose above the music as people were pushed aside by a boy who Billy recognised as part of the football squad and he did not look happy. Built like a truck, his wide frame easily parted the crowd and his whole demeanour exuded rage, from the deep creases in his brow to the white knuckles of his clenched fists. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch. It was inevitable someone was going to hit the deck hard.

Billy followed the footballers glare.

Shit.

Oh Harrington, what did you do now numbnuts?

Billy's feet moved without his consent, nudged his way through spectators just in time to see a fist fly towards Steve's oblivious face. He hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, the girls at his sides had already abandoned him. Momentarily stunned, Billy watched Steve push himself up onto his hands and knees, watched as a foot crunched into the side of his head and the resulting spatter of blood drip to the floor.

Something inside him snapped.

Marching over to the scene, Billy grabbed the back of the footballers jersey and yanked him away from Steve before he can land another kick. He hadn't seen him coming so was caught off-guard enough for Billy to roughly turn him around and barrel him into the wall, dislodging a few picture frames hanging there.

"What the fuck Hargrove? Stevie-boy there was trying to steal my girl!" The footballer protested, struggling against Billy's strength.

"Not from where I was standing." Billy growled and pressed his forehead hard into the others, murder swirling in his eyes. The footballer managed to wriggle an arm free and fight back, throwing a punch hard enough to split the skin of Billy's cheek  
The response is immediate. Billy swung back and it soon became clear that he had the superior strength, despite the others larger frame. A few more punches were exchanged before the footballer backed down, spitting in Steve's direction and stalking away with his tail between his legs.

Billy's attention quickly turned towards Steve after that. The boy was still on the floor, the right side of his face swelling around a nasty cut to his eye. He looked up in shock at Billy, no doubt wondering, the same as everyone else there, why he had stepped in and helped him.

Ignoring the whispers and stares, Billy offered a hand which Steve shakily accepted, the incident clearly sobered him up. 

"Move." Billy barked the command at the crowd and lead Steve through the house up the stairs and into an unoccupied bathroom. "Sit down." 

Steve complied without hesitation, perching himself on the closed lid of the toilet. His stomach lurched, his vision danced and for a moment he closed his eyes, listening to Billy open cupboards and run water. The next thing he knew, a damp cool cloth was being pressed to his skin and he opened his eyes to find Billy squatting in front of him, tongue slightly poking out in concentration. His head was still swimming as Billy gently cleaned him up and suddenly he was very aware at how close Billy's face was to his own. So close that he could see the cobalt flecks that shifted in the brighter hues of his irises. Their eyes met briefly and before Steve could stop himself, he said: "You have pretty eyes." 

At those words Billy stilled, mouth opening a fraction before closing again. "You're drunk and concussed." He supplied and backed off then, rising to his feet. His cheeks burned as he turned to rinse the bloody cloth and goddammit Harrington! Why did he have to say that?

Steve's hit his head, he reminded himself. 

"Anyway. We need to figure out how to get you home, can I call someone?" 

When he recieved no answer, Billy turned to find Steve had dozed off, an almost serene smile on his lips. Finding a lipstick lying around, Billy leaned down and a crudely draw dick soon decorated Steve's forehead. 

Billy grinned to himself, he couldn't be too nice now could he?

"King 'fuckin Steve... what are you doing to me? "


End file.
